


losing her would be infinitely more terrifying than loving her

by fiveroundsrapid



Category: Holby City
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Danger, F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-01-31 07:55:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21442813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveroundsrapid/pseuds/fiveroundsrapid
Summary: James Fielding, the man that stabbed Fletch, got out of police custody, and has his sights set back on AAU and Major Berenice Wolfe.AU from the ending of "Protect and Serve", which will have four chapters and an epilogue.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 33
Kudos: 190





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Regency](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regency/gifts).

> Hi, guys! Thanks for clicking and i hope you enjoy. And don't worry, all chapters HAVE been written, so I won't leave you hanging. Though reviews will OBVIOUSLY make me upload all the faster ;)
> 
> Big thanks to all my pals on Tumblr for listening to my withering as I wrote. You're all amazing.

Serena packed her bags as quickly as she could, and all but fled the ward with hurried goodbyes. Her body ached, her whole being screaming for her bed, to swathe herself in plush bed sheets and sleep for the next week, to isolate herself from her many trains of thought. Her shift had ended an hour ago, but since Fletch had been caught up in the stabbing with James Fielding, and the continued fallout from the drone and the ED, things had inevitably run late.

If she closed her eyes, she was still in the operating theatre, still drenched in the blood of her friend. So she didn't close her eyes. Instead, Serena tore through hospital corridors until she was out, finally out in the fresh air. Her pace slumped, her shoulders dropped. Another scene in the Operating Room came to life. The image of her best friend kissing her. Of her kissing back. 

Serena brought her hand slowly upwards, eyes shining. Her fingertips touched those same lips that had been kissed quite thoroughly by Berenice Wolfe less than an hour before. Was it the heat of the moment? A product of events? Was she a lesbian now? Serena looked up at the sky; it was night time now. Clear with unobstructed stars. She was too tired to think. Hadn't been thinking since she saw Fletch on that stretcher. Certainly, couldn't have been thinking when she kissed Bernie. Could she? They had kissed for a while. Definitely two interested parties. A twitch of a smile at that thought. It had been a  _ good  _ kiss. Only broken by a beep of somebody's pager. 

Cue a hurried exit, no eye contact as Serena had been desperate to get out of her scrubs, and couldn't even look at Bernie. What must Bernie think of her? As if she had even looked attractive, eyes red-rimmed and with the ugliest pair of scrubs! She was a horrific sight. Not that it even mattered. It was a heat of the moment thing- Bernie could never find that sexy. Not that that mattered either. The smile dropped; she was being ridiculous. None of it mattered. They would just…  _ draw a veil over it. _ Her phone rang in her pocket, and Serena quickly answered, already knowing who it was.

“Yes, Jason, I'm on my way. Yes, I know it's fish and chips night... I'm sorry I got waylaid in theatre... I'll tell you about it all when I get home... okay? All right. Yes, extra large portion, I know. Bye, Jason… bye, bye, bye.” Serena hung up, setting off on her brisk walk to her car, the predictability of Jason and his chip shop order bemusing her no end after the long day. The world was still spinning, and Jason needed his fish and chips.

Serena will talk to Bernie tomorrow. Is sure she will. They are on the same shift; as usual these days, it was always better running the ward together. But how to tell her? More than that,  _ what  _ was she going to tell her? She reached her car, unlocked it, and put her bag in the front passenger's seat, before turning around, leaning against the metalwork and  _ really  _ wishing she smoked.

*******

Bernie sat, head in her hands, in the AAU locker room, on the little bench. The heels of her palms dug into her sockets as she reprimanded herself. How idiotic did she have to be? Today was a bad day. Her worst day. The mess with Mr Fielding- it was her fault that Fletch had been stabbed. She hadn’t read the signs, had simply fobbed off the odd behaviour. She’d had her fans throughout her military career, and she could certainly relate to the loneliness given in his emails. Bernie had thought he was harmless. He wasn’t. That was on her. And then, if that wasn’t worse, there had been the kiss with Serena- forcing herself on her best friend, of all people. 

She let out a low moan, annoyed with herself. A deep breath in, Bernie tries to collect herself, and put the kiss out of her mind. She would allow this, then she would get back on the ward, and strive for some facsimile of normal and get through the few hours left on her shift. Tomorrow, she will apologize to Serena- claim she hadn't been thinking; that it didn't mean she had feelings for Serena beyond a deep, admiring friendship. Even though Bernie feared it quite possibly did.

“Bernie?” She lifted her head up, looked over. Raf had poked his head through. He looked shattered as well, like them all. “Just to let you know, he's stable. Safe up in ITU.”

“Of course. Thanks, Raf.” Bernie nodded, standing. It was no good hiding in the locker room. “Um- er... Serena?”

“Gone home. Pretty sharpish, too. Suppose she needed a sleep. Can't say I blame her.”

Bernie swallowed.  _ Idiot.  _ “How have the kids taken it?”

“Rough. Evie is taking charge of the little ones. It can't be easy though, what with losing their mum as well.” Raf is all wide-eyed concern for his charges, a hand reaching back to scratch the back of his neck. Bernie gave a short, sympathetic smile.

“Go. Head home, take care of them. And take the rest of the week. I'll sort it with Hanssen.” She doubted Henrik would object, but if he did, then Bernie would make sure it was all okay, take on the extra shifts if needs be. The whole of AAU would pull together to sort out rotas. Though, it would probably be Serena who would deal with all of that. Her thoughts drifted off again to soft lips...

“Cheers, Bernie.” Raf gave a thankful smile and headed out. Bernie waited a moment and then left the room, taking her hair out of her ponytail. It had become messed up anyway. Serena had pulled at her hair on the floor of the theatre, pulling her closer as Bernie’s hand had squeezed at her hip.

_ Stop it, Wolfe. _

She looked over at the side room. Stephanie had gone now, as had the armed guards, though she hadn't been briefed. There was probably an email. Bernie headed to the office, calling out to Lou to keep her abreast of any changes, and asking Morven to do rounds and calm patients as she did so. Bernie turned the handle and let herself into her office, noting that Serena's things were gone. It shouldn't be a surprise. Raf had said plainly that she'd gone home, her shift had ended an hour ago, but Bernie still felt a pang of something deep within her chest, telling her that Serena had run from her. She'd mucked up. 

Emails for ten minutes. Paperwork for five. But Bernie could not sit still. She got up, paced a little before going out of the office. It was too stifling, too stuffy and she kept looking at the desk opposite, kept thinking. She didn't want to think. She wanted her mind numbed. Morven was at the nurses' station. The ward was busy. It had been battered by Fletch's attack, but they were all still standing.

“All sound?” Bernie checked in, casting a quick glance over files.

“Yeah. I've upped Ms Florentine's pain medication, and Beds 3, 6 and 7 have been discharged. Mr Kerry has also been moved up to Keller.” Morven reported.

“Good. I'm going to go and check the Trauma Stores. We had to use a lot of reserve packs with Fletch, and I've been needing to take inventory. Page me if you need anything, all right?” Bernie ordered. Morven nodded. Smiling, Bernie patted Morven on the shoulder, and headed to the stores.

It was still a bit of a mess. Untended to since the hurried grabbing of gauze and packs when Fletch was rushed into their care. It had already been a busy day for theatre, without the added emergency surgery. It was best to take inventory now, whilst they had calm. Bernie grabbed an inventory sheet and a clipboard, intending to meander amongst the shelves, counting stock and jotting things down. It was a form of admin she could tolerate; a solitary task that was without a shackle to her desk. 

Not that she didn’t like her desk. Bernie did. Bernie liked her office. It was a refuge on the ward, as much as it was a cage from the action. Bernie could only look at it favourably, however, because of Serena. They had banter there, coffees and stories and company. Bernie would get Serena a pastry from Pulses, and Serena would pick up the occasional sandwich, knowing Bernie was like a guided missile on long shifts, and would loathe to stop, sit down, and eat. She had found that out on the first week they had worked together. Her usual routine of snacking on the go creating a bit of a mess on the desks when Serena had been on leave. It was a fond story now; they knew each other's quirks and smiles and it was like nothing Bernie had ever known.

Bernie let out a huff, and noted down the number of antifibrinolytic drugs they had left, and which ones. She really shouldn’t be thinking about Serena. For starters, she had promised herself not to do so for the rest of the day, at least. Push out all thoughts pertaining to her best friend and all that there was brought up from kissing her. Bernie stifled a groan, scribbling out her last note.

“Stupid woman.” She muttered to herself, under her breath. “Utter…  _ plonker _ .” Bernie would love to blame it simply on pent up frustration, or lack of love life, or any of those feeble reasons, but it would be in vain. All reasons pointed to her, quite possibly, falling in love with her straight best friend. 

She hadn’t, Bernie told herself.

No, of course not. Such things were wrong, out of bounds. This was jeopardizing enough, she didn’t need to add feelings into it. Especially not when, in all likelihood, she could simply walk over to Serena, the next time she saw her and say… say what?  _ Sorry that I kissed you? I wasn’t thinking? _ The latter would be right. She hadn’t been thinking at all.

The door to the stores opened and shut. Not looking up from her clipboard, she spoke out, assuming the visitor to be the senior nurse on the ward. Turning around; “Lou, can you check main storage to see if we have any-” Bernie looked up, and gasped.

“They didn’t get to you. I wasn’t too late.” It was James Fielding. Bernie’s…  _ stalker _ . The man who had stabbed Fletch. Her body tensed up, frozen. He wasn’t in the hospital gown any more, just clad in a police issued pair of jogging bottoms and jumper. Bernie swallowed.

“James! You were…” James surged forwards, eyes erratic, and a finger pressed to her lips, prompting Bernie to stop talking, her pen and clipboard now hanging loosely at her side. She glanced towards the door. One way out. And he was blocking it.

“Shhh! Shh! They’ll hear.” He drew closer, and Bernie backed up, her back meeting a desk. The delusions were the same. Bernie moved her head so that she could speak.

“James, I saw what you drew-” Bernie tried, thinking if she got through to him, calmed him down that this needn’t end badly. Someone would come in and check on her, and alert the police. They were likely already searching for James. All she needed to do was stall for time and then get somewhere public as soon as possible.

“Then you know!” The hand that had been shushing her was now lightly gripping her throat as Bernie tried to stretch away, angle herself away and towards the door. “You know I’m just trying to protect you.”

“Of- Of course, James.” Bernie couldn't muster up a smile.

“And this time, they won’t get to you.” James pulled away and Bernie sagged in relief, putting the clipboard and pen on the side, turning away for a fraction of a second, never letting the mad man out of her line of sight. James started rifling through the plastic packages of equipment, checking drawers. Bernie edged closer to the door;  _ Small movements, Major. _

“Why don’t we go outside to talk? Hm?” Bernie offered, eyes skirting between James and her one exit. A few more steps.

“No!” James must have heard her movements, hyperaware, because he then rounded on her, backing her up again and his hand went against her neck, pressing down. Bernie gasped for air, alarmed but trying not to let it show. “They are out there! This is the only place we’ll be safe.” His breath was warm against her face. She clamped her eyes shut against it. “And I need to keep you  _ safe,  _ Major.”

“James, I really think you should just… just come with me.” She could feel each individual finger pressing against the column of her throat, a thumb at her carotid, the rest splayed close to her jaw. Bernie opened her eyes. She needed to focus, to talk him down. He had to calm down and see that his fantasies were just that; fantasy. “People will look for me, James. I’ve got patients, I’ve got my staff.”

For a brief moment, Bernie actually thought she had gotten through to him. A small fraction of a second, James had snarled in her face before letting go, allowing Bernie to breathe in great gulping gasps. But he only began searching, pacing, wide-eyed and erratic.

“Puppets. All of them. Irrelevant.” He spat, ripping packets out of piles, checking and then tossing boxes of equipment or drugs, banging drawers open and shut. “We need to keep you safe.”

“James? James! Look at me!” She needed to stop him, if she could just keep him focused on her, then she could subdue him. He was smiling. Bernie felt sickened.

“I knew you were clever. This place. This place has everything.” He was throwing things around now, looking for something, and Bernie had no idea what. 

“James, stop it!”

“Can’t. Need to be quick. They’ll know I’ve escaped, won’t they?”

“The police?” She had to distract him, and keep the conversation going.

“Tried to stop me with that man, but I won, didn’t I?” James gloated. “Left him bleeding.” Bernie bit the inside of her cheeks to stop herself from raging. James boasting about nearly killing Fletch made her head spin. On her guard, she stepped forward, as James seemed triumphant, back towards her, she heard a plastic wrap being torn. This wasn’t irrational, this was worse. He had a plan, like he had done with Stephanie, as he had done with Fletch when he had stabbed him right near the heart. Would he hurt her?

“What are you doing with that equipment, James?” She asked again, in a hard tone. 

“So pretty…” James mused, in awe, and turned.

“Oh God…” Bernie whispered. It was a scalpel. James was holding a scalpel and looking at it as though it was the most wonderful thing in the world. Bernie stepped back, into the wall. James turned his gaze on her, and Bernie was frightened. Actually, properly frightened, and as paralyzed as she had been lying in an upturned jeep in the middle of the desert.

“See? See how I’m going to protect you?” He told her, waving the scalpel around. Bernie didn’t know what he meant; was he going to hurt people to protect her? Or hurt her, to protect her? Bernie relied on logic, on brusqueness and fact. It was one of the reasons she got on so well with Jason. It was one of the reasons the last few hours had made no sense to her. It meant Bernie was out of her depth.

James was erratic. He was holding the scalpel with a fierce grip, but still moving, doing things one handed. He emptied a bin, sending paper trash everywhere, and placing it near the door. He grabbed gauze and bandages. Threw them in the bin. Bernie could only watch, trying to figure out what it was he was doing. Was he trying to block the exit? 

She couldn’t allow that. Bernie glanced over at James, rooting through the shelves, sending things flying, ripping over plastic packets to get at dressings and prescription pads. 

Then, Bernie made a run for it.

“No! NO!” James shouted, charging at Bernie, scalpel pointed at her. Bernie was so close to the door, she had her fingertips on the handle, but then James wrestled her back and threw her down onto the ground with a yell. She was quick to get up though, to try again but James just pointed the blade at her. “Stay there! Stay  _ there _ !” Bernie put her hands up and did what he said, effectively trapping herself between plastic shelving units and walls. She was cornered. 

“Wh-What are you doing?” She asked him, as James turned back to the shelves, forgoing his previous search. Now he grabbed bottles of antiseptics, hand sanitizers, began to screw open bottles, pouring them into the bin, dousing the gauze.  _ Fire accelerants.  _ Bernie felt sick. That’s what he was doing. The bandages were the kindling. He was going to make a fire.

“I keep  _ telling you! _ ” Bernie flinched. James swung his arms out, pointing to the door. “I’m keeping you away from them! All of them, out there! You think that man was the last? They are everywhere. You just can’t see it yet. But you will, I will  _ make you  _ see.”

He pulled out a pilfered cigarette lighter, flicked the switch and dropped it into the bin.

“No!” Bernie launched herself across the room, her fingers just managing to scrape along the fire alarm, and set it off, before the huge weight of James Fielding crashed into her, sending her, hard, to the floor. Her head hit the side of the worktop, and pain bloomed. James was on top of her. She tried to push him off but to no avail. He wasn’t budging. Kicking and yelling, Bernie pushed, and James’ leg kicked out, sending the flaming bin sideways. 

“Stay down, Major.” He hissed, voice in her ear as he pressed her down to the floor. The fire alarm rang. “That was a very foolish thing to do.”

Bernie was crippled by the weight, watching as the fire spread, catching on all the fallen detritus from the trauma stores, creeping slowly but surely towards the oxygen tanks. The flammable tanks. She pushed at James again, slipped from under him, crawling and reaching out towards the source of the fire, but her ankle was grabbed and the next thing she felt was an immense heat as-

*******

_ BOOM _ .

Serena whipped around, her hair standing on end, blown by a gust of wind as she looked over at the hospital to see the night sky flashed. A plume of smoke, a flash of fire. An explosion. The hospital's just exploded. Panic gripped her as she stood dumbfounded. Concrete had been torn up, the road of the car park a mess of debris as Serena pinpointed the source to be on the ground floor. AAU. That's her ward. That's  _ her _ ward.

Serena was frozen for one second before her training kicked in; her cool head ruling as she rushed away from the blaze, towards the hospital entrance. Security were everywhere, the doors swarming with police already there due to the drone attack. A crowd was forming; staff, relatives, even patients out for a smoke break. All congregating. 

“I can't let you in. Major incident protocol, the hospital is on lockdown and I can't let anyone in.” A policeman told her firmly as she managed to push her way to the front of the queue.

“I am Clinical Co-Lead of the Acute Admissions Unit, and if you want to keep your job, you will let me in and see to my ward!” Serena growled, credentials in hand. She was no longer Deputy CEO but she could still damn well get into the hospital if she needed to.

“This entrance is to remain shut for entrees, only evacuation now. I'm sorry, Ma'am-” The officer replied, and Serena was this close to ripping him a new one for calling her 'ma'am' like some old biddy, but she was distracted by Raf, coming up the ramp entrance, in his civvies, puffing.

“Serena!”

“Raf! What are you doing...” She trailed off, gesturing to him. He should be on shift, he clocked off when Bernie did. Serena knew that because she had drawn the rotas up herself, it was the only reason  _ she  _ could go home at this time.

“Bernie let me go early, said she could cover. I've got the kids in the car. I was just buckling them in when I saw the fire.” Serena made a noncommittal noise. It would be just like Bernie to let him go. She should have thought of that, with the kids and everything. She’d just been distracted. “That was AAU wasn't it?”

“Don't worry, Raf. I'm sure it's all fine. Or would be if these idiots would let me in to help my patients!” Her voice raised so she could easily be heard by the officers. They didn't budge. Both Raf and Serena turned as they heard the sirens and then saw the flashing lights of many fire engines. Thank God, Serena thought. She turned back to the officers. “If you don't let me in, right now, then I am going to complain to your superior. I am a Head of Department, and I need to be inside, with my patients!”

“Ms Campbell.” The smooth, unwavering tones of Hanssen cut through the sirens and Serena saw him towering at the back of the guard. He directed his next words to the police officers. “You can let Ms Campbell in, gentlemen, I'm in need of her assistance. Mr Di Lucca, take care of your charges, you will be informed when AAU is evacuated and Mr Fletcher safe.”

“Raf, go. Go! I can take care of this- you look after the kids. Go.” Serena squeezed the Scot's arm before muscling past the human barricade. She gave Henrik a curt nod as they walked. “I take it all ingoing has been directed to St James'?”

“Among others. Darwin and Keller are in the process of evacuating, and most of the other wards already have.”

“The fire?”

“Unknown as to the source, but it's in your domain. It seems the main ward is unaffected. The blaze is in Trauma Pharmaceutical Stores. AAU is the utmost priority. As, of course, is the escape of James Fielding from police custody.”

“What?” Serena breathed, every muscle seeming to tense up. Hanssen didn't notice her change, or if he did, made no mention of it. Serena looked ahead, steeling herself. Here she had thought that the day couldn’t get any worse. She needed to see her staff. All of them. Bernie.

“Indeed. We are attacked on all fronts, Ms Campbell. I trust you to coordinate the evacuation of your ward whilst the police and fire department do their jobs.” Mr Hanssen told her, briskly. She could see it in his eyes though, that he was worried. He needed her to be his second; his deputy in all but the letterhead. That she could do. 

Serena rolled up her sleeves, ready to get to work.

*******

The whole world was spinning. All of the shelving units were now a mess, left half-standing, and equipment and packs had rained down upon Bernie and James as the white hot light of the explosion had blasted them backwards. Bernie was bent over, her form draped over a fallen rack, the metal digging into her spine. She groaned, her ankle twisted from the grip James had it in, and the force of it being ripped away. The fire alarm rang and rang.

Her normally pale skin was marred with burns. Second and third degree, all on her arms from reaching out She stretched, letting out another whimper. Her scrubs had ridden up and she could tell bruising would come quickly onto her abdomen. Bernie looked up, through her fringe, to see fire raging in the corner of the storeroom, spreading quickly outwards.

“We-” Bernie breathed hard, looking round for James. As crazy as the man was, she didn't want him to die. She didn't want herself to die either. James was already sitting up, crouched, watching the fire with fascination, the scalpel gleaming in the blaze. He looked almost entranced, as if he couldn't believe he had done it. And that he was glad he had. Bernie tried to grab his attention, shifting her body into an upright position with a hiss. His figure was going in and out of focus, her head pounding. “We need to get out.”

“This is wonderful.” He breathed, his whole being focused on the knife. Bernie looked away from the fire to her own injuries, adjusting her scrubs, prying her back away from the metal frame of the shelving before landing on flat ground. Bernie coughed, spluttering and hacking. The smoke was minimal for now, but she was winded from the explosion. Everything was spinning. It was like the IED. Except this time she wasn’t trapped in a jeep. This time, she was in a room, with a mad man. There was no humid desert, but an air conditioned sterile environment. For whatever reason, likely control, Bernie would have preferred the desert.

“James-” Bernie called out to him. She could hear something, a scuffling underneath the heavy ringing of the fire alarm. Someone coming; it was footsteps from outside. Bernie tried to get to her feet, but her ankle protested and she toppled, unbalanced. James moved like a cat startled by the noise of footsteps, but quick and agile, significantly less bruised than Bernie. A flash of anger was on his face before it was composed into one of apparent concern. Bernie put out her arms to keep him away but he only took hold of her wrists and tugged. James positioned them both behind the fallen shelving units. Bernie went to make a sound but she stopped, heart thumping, head pounding, mouth too dry for any words. She heard the door to the stores open.

“ _ Ah, ah, ah _ . Shush, now, Major.” He hissed close to her ear before James then smashed Bernie’s face onto the floor, her eyes directly in the line of fire, literally, both of them blocked from the view of the trauma store door.

“Ms Wolfe?” Bernie’s heart sank. Morven was having to not only deal with a ward to run, but an evacuation and a fire, all on her own. Bernie desperately wanted to move, to speak, to do anything to signal to the young doctor that she was here and needed help.

“Morv-” The word was cut short by Bernie’s own congested chest, finding it hard to breathe, and then, by her captor. That’s what James Fielding had become. A weight on top of her, trapping her, imprisoning her by strength and by flame, and now, by isolation. Morven was her only shot to be spotted. No one else would come after her.

“I said shut up.” James wrenched her upwards, pressing her against him, scalpel at her throat, keeping her arms down, his other hand acting as a hard clamp around her mouth. Bernie felt a tear fall from her eyes. She prayed for Morven to get out. Forget about her now, Morven was worth a lot more.

“Bernie?” Morven called out, coughing. Bernie wanted nothing more than for Morven to go and get help, to be able to move and get everyone out. She couldn’t see Morven, but heard the soft pad of her trainers. James’ grip tightened around her. The blade to her throat was ghosting against her skin. Bernie didn’t dare to breathe. Morven coughed again, asking again for her superior; “Ms Wolfe?”

_ Get out _ , Bernie wanted to yell. She didn’t dare imagine what James would do with that scalpel if Morven saw them. Bernie screwed her eyes together, lungs burning. She needed to cough. The smoke was too much. 

The door shut. Morven was gone. Bernie collapsed from relief, sagging against the floor, even as James made a move. The young doctor needed to get everyone out. She needed to be safe; Morven was too good to be hurt. Pain rippled from her scalp as James then pulled her up by the hair. The blade returned to its position against the white of her neck. He slipped, moving them to another corner, and Bernie’s neck was caught, and a drop of blood trickled down her neck.

*******

Serena was directing as she went, calling out orders and making sure that all patients and staff knew their evacuation points and were going as quickly and as safely as possible. Henrik had already left her, going to sort things out with the authorities- police and fire brigade. The crowds filtered past her, all around, in hospital beds, in wheelchairs, some still attached to their drips. She weaved in and out, reassuring as she went, but getting closer and closer down the corridor to AAU. The hallways were filled with smoke that hung like fog, and she was just grateful there wasn’t mass panic.

“Don’t worry, everyone, just follow whatever staff member you see to the exits! Lou- can you take Mr Hutchins here, and make sure he doesn’t trip over his drip again?” Serena heard a familiar voice and jogged towards it. “Leave all personal items, just get yourselves out!”

“Morven!” Serena smiled on seeing the young doctor. She just managed to get out of the way of Lou and the aforementioned Mr Hutchins, to reach Morven who stood stationary in the crowds, waving them along and keeping them all moving. Serena craned her neck, looking past Dr Digby, expecting to see Bernie, closer to the danger, obviously, but also moving patients out of the ward. She wasn’t there though.

“Ms Campbell!” Morven called back, relieved to see her superior. She hadn't seen Ms Wolfe since before the fire and had felt lost. The fire had started so quickly and whilst they had done drills, it was very difficult to stay utterly composed when you were responsible for so much and without help.

Serena returned her attention to Morven. “What's the situation?”

“We've got the patients all out. The trauma bay- it's gone. It's up in flames, we've managed to get everyone out but I can't find Ms Wolfe!” Morven relayed. Serena felt sick.

“Where did you last see her?” Serena asked, urgently. Surely, Bernie would be fine, but Serena needed to know for certain, especially with Fielding out of police custody.

“She said she was going to check stock-” Morven started but Serena cut across her. She’d been told all she needed. 

“Morven, get out. Follow the last of the beds and make sure all AAU staff are accounted for, do you hear me?” Serena said, summoning all her authority as she coughed more and more. 

“Yes, but-”

“I'll find Ms Wolfe.” Serena affirmed, path chosen. Morven had to get out. She was bright and young and not responsible for this. It was Serena’s ward. She felt responsible for her staff.

“The ward’s closed off till the firefighters get here.” Morven protested. "You can't go in there!”

“I've got to. Morven, I'll be as quick as I can. Okay? I'll meet you outside.” She squeezed Morven’s shoulders and made a move, taking off her peach blouse as she did so. She could use that to cover her mouth and nose; press the fabric against her face. 

AAU was almost unrecognizable. She was lucky and knew this hospital ward like the back of her hand. Even so; from what Serena could see from beyond the black smoke and ash was chaos. The ward was like a ghost town. There were open flames blaring and Serena coughed violently at the smoke. Knocked over IV stands, saline packs burst from a bed running it over, abandoned wheelchairs and visitor chairs. 

“Bernie!” Serena yelled, her vision swirling before her because of sheer heat by the fire. Panic ruled her as she screamed out for her best friend. “Bernie?”

“Someone's here.” James whispered over the crackle of flames that could be heard outside the door. Smoke was starting to filter through. Bernie herself was still crouched, arms outstretched and non-threatening. The gash on her head was bleeding steadily, though the one on her neck had dried, red smeared against her throat. All Bernie could hear was muffled shouts again. “ _ Again. _ ”

“James. James, they'll have noticed I'm missing, okay?” Bernie tried to grab his attention. She couldn't risk anyone else getting involved. Whoever was out there would give up. 

“Here to finish the job.” James muttered, crazed.

“No one is here to harm you or me. Okay, so put the scalpel down,” Bernie tried. James swung round to her, facing her directly, between Bernie and the door. The scalpel held menacingly towards her. “James!” Bernie pleaded. “James, this place is filling up with smoke, we need to get out, okay? You need to let us out.”

“Can't go out. Not safe.” Bernie was terrified. James was mad. 

“James, it's not safe here!” She shouted, pleading with him to see reason as the smoke became heavier, and denser around them.

“You're stronger than the rest of us, Major. The fire can't touch you. But they can. They want you dead, for what you know.”

“I don't know what you're talking about, James. You're ill. You're just very ill.”

“You think I'm stupid? All day I've been watching you. Watching that woman in the bed. I tried to get rid of her, but the nurse got in the way. But there are others. They are everywhere.”

The voice rang out again, this time closer. Bernie could tell who it was. It was Serena. “Bernie!”

“Oh, God, Serena…” Bernie whispered reverently. Of all the rescuers… tears pricked at the Major’s eyes at the apparent injustice of it all. Anyone but Serena.

“Shhh.” The ghastly whisper against the shell of her ear, as James pulled her back, away from the door. Bernie protested, making muffled yells against his hand. She needed to be out. She needed to get Serena out. Serena couldn’t die. Thoughts spun in her head about Jason, and Elinor, and all the people who relied on Serena. All the people that loved Serena.

“ _ Mmph! _ ” She wrenched free of James’ hold as another cry could be heard.

“Bernie! Bernie! Where are you?”

Bernie pulled herself up by one of the shelving units, but James’ movements were quicker, and he blocked her again. The smoke was thick, but Bernie could still easily make out the glint of the scalpel still in the man’s hand. Desperately, she took a step forward, only for the scalpel to be waved at her chest. Trying again, and keeping her voice low, she looked James’ in the eye. “Please. You need to let me get her out. You need to, James. I’m begging you.”

“No.”

“You are ILL! If this carries on, we’re going to die.” Bernie’s patience was waning. She had tried to calm him, tried to bargain with him. How could she now stop the panicked anger flaring in her heart?

“No!” James shouted, and ran at her. Bernie deflected the scalpel but was pushed into the wall, and crashed to the floor, packs of equipment raining down from the shelving that she’d bashed into. Her burns made her cry out, and it was getting harder and harder to keep lucid with all the smoke. Bernie could see the flames near the door spreading. If they got taller, that would mean she had no way out at all.

“James, please…” He wasn’t listening to her, instead was pacing the way side to side in the room, like a prowling big cat. Bernie just wanted it all to stop, had only the strength to plead yet again. “Please!”

“BERNIE!” Serena’s cry over the smog again. Bernie let out a moan, and crawled forward, lifting her arms above her head in a grasp for purchase.

“Sere-” She made to shout but James blocked her again. Her wide, tearful eyes met his crazed ones. He put a finger to his lips.

“No. It’s a trap. They just want to lure you out.” James urged. Bernie would have laughed- if someone did, they picked the right bloody person to do so. Serena Campbell. God, why couldn’t Serena have just been at home? Just gone home and been alive and well instead of coming in after her. 

“Okay… okay…” Bernie attempted to pacify. Anger now filled him. He wished she just saw what it is that he saw, wished that the bloody Major was grateful for it. All he did for her, and she treated him like a fool. Like some sort of crazy person. 

“I’m trying to save you, damn it! Damn you!” He hissed at Bernie. Twitching, he held tighter onto the scalpel. The voice out there, he knew that voice. The brown-haired woman who had been around all day, trying to pass herself off as an equal to the Major. Forever mocking him, turning him away. Oh yes, she had to be one of  _ them _ . 

“James…” Bernie coughed, a hand to her mouth as the smoke built in her lungs.

“One more word and I go out there, and I’m killing her.” Bernie shut up, petrified. Always would she care for Serena more than herself. Always. James bent down, crouched near her. His face so close to hers, barely an inch between. Bernie could look only into his crazed eyes and red skin from the hot flush of fire. “Don’t you see? I’m doing all of this to protect you. Like you protected me.” He rambled.

“Bernie!” Serena, again. Bernie let out another keen.

“I’m your surgeon, James. I’m just a doctor…” He was insane. It seemed days since she had fobbed Fletch off, had put James’ interest down to simple curiosity. She had simply fixed him, just held his hand and done his surgery when he’d been on Keller. But it had been only hours since the stabbing. Now, she was locked in a burning room with a madman, and the woman she-  _ Serena  _ was on the other side, on the ward, risking her life. “Just a doctor.”

“No. No! You’re a soldier, stop telling me lies,” James hissed. His voice tailed off, mad mutterings in Bernie’s ear as she spluttered and coughed on all fours. She could only hope that Serena had left. “You’ll see. You’ll see.”

Bernie was starting to get the sickening feeling she was going to die in here.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the response! This is the first time I've ever written something that's so much filled with action. I'm glad you're all enjoying it xxx

Serena couldn’t find her. High and low she had been. To their office, the theatres, every nook of the bays. She’d tried getting to the trauma store, but there had to be no way Bernie was in there. She couldn’t, the fire was blocking it. The smoke was getting denser and still Serena could not find Bernie. 

Her blouse was attempting to keep out some of the smoke, but it was getting clogged in the material, making her cough and splutter against the thin fabric. Her free hand grasped the glass desk of the nurses station to keep herself upright. Her vision circled as she kept turning her head, searching for any sign, or something that she had missed previously that would tell her where Bernie was. She looked over at the corridor that led to the trauma stores, where Bernie had been last sighted. Surely,  _ surely,  _ Bernie wasn’t in there. 

Serena headed in the direction of the trauma stores. She had to check, she could feel it in her bones that she  _ had  _ to check. All of a sudden, she felt hands on her shoulders and turned to see a group of firemen appearing out of the smog. One of them was right by her, looking at her through a mask. Over forty, still younger than her, dark beard, and very, very insistent.

“Ma’am! Miss! You shouldn’t be here.” He yelled over the sound of the fire and clattering of his team as they surveyed the ward. Serena shook her head, removing her blouse from her lips so she could talk, her volume matching his.

“I need to find Bernie!” Serena told him, coughing as the smoke hit her.

“Get her out, Lieutenant!” A fireman to the right, weilding an axe and obviously the one in charge, yelled at the man attempting to maneuver Serena out of AAU, but she wasn’t having any of it. None of these men knew Bernie, knew the importance of finding Bernie, or anything about James Fielding.

“No, you don’t understand-” She had to stay.

“If your friend is in here, we’ll get him.” The Lieutenant put his arm around her shoulders, his other hand grasping her forearm in an attempt to make her move and get her out but Serena was fighting against it, dragging her feet, trying to twist out of his grip.

_ “Her!” _ Serena pressed. “Bernie! Her name is Bernie Wolfe. Please!” She coughed again, forcing it out of her but breathing in more smoke, bending over. 

“Get her out, and get her some oxygen!” The order was shouted over her, the leader of the team running over to help the Lieutenant try and wrestle Serena in the direction of the exit.

“Will you listen to me?” Serena yelled in the general direction of the man in charge, still bent over double, heart thrumming, hand wobbling as it grasped her scrunched up blouse. She needed them to listen. Bernie was still here, somewhere. Bernie needed saving! “My-  _ Bernie _ . Ms Wolfe! She’s still in there!”

“I will do my very best for your friend, but I’m sure she doesn’t want you hurting yourself.” The man in charge assured Serena, before barking out yet more orders for his men and women to search the ward. It dizzily reminded Serena of Bernie when the AAU had been on major incident reform, calling the shots, Kandahar-style. Her arm was then grasped by another, pulling her away from the nurses’ desk that she had braced herself upon. “Get her out! And call for backup, this mother has spread more than I thought.”

“Bernie!” Serena shouted, futilely, once more in the hopes that she would hear something, anything from her co-lead. But there was nothing, and Serena could only retreat, forced out by a fireman simply doing his job. Her nose pressed against her blouse, as she was rushed out, bent over. Even the reception was full of smoke as they all but charged out, past Pulse’s and into the car park.

The fresh air hit her squarely in the chest. Serena was ushered over to an ambulance stationed outside. Dizzy from smoke inhalation, she collapsed down on the back step, tearing away her outer blouse from around her mouth, and exposing her throat to clean air. Sat now, in only her vest top, she had least had a reason for her shaking. Coughing and spluttering, she tilted her head upwards, closing her eyes but still seeing lights as the fire light filtered through her eye.

“Ms Campbell!” Morven’s voice startled her and she opened her eyes to look around. Seeing the young doctor running towards her, she stood up, faltering at how woozy she felt. Smoke inhalation was no joke. 

“I’m fine, Morven.” She attempted a smile, just as Morven barrelled into her, squeezing her into a hug. “I’m- I’m fine!”

“You were gone so long, I didn’t even realise you were still in there.” Morven cooed, letting her go. Iain, a paramedic from the ED, came around the corner of the ambulance, grabbing the oxygen equipment and a mask, putting it over Serena’s face.

“Oxygen. Breathe deeply and slowly.” He instructed, going to adjust the strap but Serena batted him away, adjusting it herself and regulating her breathing.

“Yes, thank you, Iain. I’ve got it.”

“I thought you’d left.” Morven explained, wide-eyed, looking at her boss covered in dust from the ward, and reeking of smoke, half-dressed and gasping for breath.

“I was going to but-” Serena breathed deeply, in and out, only pausing to speak. Why hadn’t she left? It had been stupid, a stupid risk. Now here she was, in the back of an ambulance breathing into an oxygen mask. But, of course, Serena knew the answer. She just couldn’t quite… articulate what all that meant yet. “How are the patients? Fletch?”

“All present and accounted for. Shaken up, but we’ve not lost them. Any critical patients were triaged and either put on ambulances, at the makeshift ED or transferred to St James’. Fletch is fine, still in his coma.” Morven rattled off.

“Good. Good.” Serena mumbled, ripping off the mask and basking in the cooler air. She spotted Morven's worry, plain on her face. Serena took her hand, pulling her focus with a mentor's smile. “You’ve been remarkable, Morven.”

“I just wish I knew what had happened.”

“We all do. But it won’t do us any good worrying about that now.”

“But Bernie-”

“Will be fine.” Serena told her, firmly. The list of all the reasons why she would be flitted through her mind. Bernie was a soldier, she had worked in combat zones, she was capable, she was headstrong, stubborn enough to survive. She’d once said she knew how to kill someone in 13 different ways, just with her bare hands. That might have simply been a drunken boast to Ric after one too many whiskeys. Personally, Serena was hoping that Bernie would throttle James Fielding. She also hoped they never saw each other again. “Now, go and get yourself some water and see if someone can take over your charges.”

“I want to work.” Morven was determined. Serena couldn’t fault her, so she nodded.

“Alright. I’ll join you soon. I just…” She put the mask back on and took a deep breath. In and out. She was starting to feel tired. Tired physically. Tired emotionally. Serena felt like all she needed to hear was that Bernie was okay. And that seemed ridiculous to her. Since when had the blonde meant so much to her that she couldn’t think straight? “I just need a minute.”

*******

No more than ten minutes later, just as Serena was starting to feel less light-headed, steeling herself to try and go back in even, shouts rose up amid the crowds. Serena stood up, throwing off her oxygen mask and leaving the back of the ambulance, rounding the corner of it to get a good look at the Wyvern Wing’s main entrance. The firefighters were retreating. All of them, tens of men and women running out of the building and back to their equipment, yelling orders and shouting.

Serena was confused, and started running, putting her peach coloured, smoke-smelling shirt on as she did, wrapping it around her body. She saw the fireman who had ordered her out of AAU, now without his helmet and mask. Her mouth went dry. Surely, surely, they weren’t retreating? Where was Bernie? She faltered, looking back to the entrance, seeing if any of the people coming out were Bernie, or holding Bernie, or helping Bernie. She just needed to know where Bernie was. Picking up the pace, she charged towards the fire chief.

“Everybody out!” He was yelling, waving all of his men and women out of the building, one hand on his radio, ready to send or listen at any time. He was in charge of the scene, and Serena zeroed in.

“What are they doing?” She asked him, but he held out an arm to keep her away.

“Get back!” He yelled at her.

“Have you found Bernie?” Serena kept her distance, his arm still blocking her, keeping her back as the firemen kept emptying out of Holby City Hospital. She didn’t have his attention, and had to jog to keep pace with his movements around the fire engines and the entrance. “Bernie Wolfe, I told you about her- has she been found?”

“No. I’m sorry.” He replied, offhand, distracted by his work.

“What?” Serena asked, as the man went to walk away. She couldn’t let him. “Where are you going? Bernie is still in there!”

“Ceiling collapse. I’m sorry. But we need to stop this fire spreading.”

“No, you need to find Bernie! You can’t stop looking for her, she’s stuck in there, I know she is!” 

“Serena.” Ric Griffin came into Serena’s line of vision. Serean couldn’t care less however, still determined to go after the fireman and get him to run back inside that building and not come out till he had a blonde trauma surgeon with him.

“For God’s sake!” She cursed out of futility, as the fireman ran off in all his gear, over to his men, and Ric blocked her path from getting anywhere closer to the fire engines and the blaze they were attempting to put out. He put his hands out, stopping her.

“Serena! Come on!” He was trying to herd her away from the danger zone, not used to seeing Serena like this. She was nibbling on her lower lip, anxious. More anxious than Ric could ever remember seeing her, and he liked to think he knew her pretty well. Serena was really rattled. 

“They need to get Bernie.” Serena told him, weakly. Ric looked towards the hospital. Bernie was still in there? No wonder Serena was worried. But he remained level-headed; calm. There was only so much they could do, and it wasn’t going to help anyone to have the co-lead of AAU run into a burning building. Oddly, Ric thought that was exactly what his friend would do, given half the chance. 

“Which they can’t do if the hospital decides to collapse in on itself. What’s wrong with you?” Ric attempted to reason, putting an arm on Serena to make her stop moving so frantically. Serena stilled at the contact, before brushing him off slightly, folding her arms, protectively, both against the cold breeze and the singular gaze of Eric Griffin; he could always read her far too well for his own good.

“What’s wrong?” Serena scoffed. “The hospital, my ward, is a mess, it’s on fire, we’ve got a psychopath on the loose, patients stranded-”

“And you’re going around yelling about Bernie! I’ve seen you in crisis, Serena, you’re a calm-headed woman. Those firefighters have a job to do. So do the police. So do you.” Ric couldn’t understand this. He knew Serena, and she thrived in a crisis. She had been fine with the overspill from the ED onto AAU earlier in the day, working non-stop with a quick and expert manner. Crisis was what her ward dealt with on a daily basis with that red phone that could blare at any moment. Yet here she was, rattled.

“If Bernie dies then...” Then Serena didn’t know what she’d do. Bernie had made herself essential to her. She was her best friend, her co-lead. They were a package deal in the hospital now. They had wine nights, Bernie helped with Jason when she could, Serena helped Bernie with her divorce, things were good. She didn't want to think about Bernie dying. About what she would lose if Bernie did die. Serena was determined she wouldn’t lose her chance to… she didn’t even know. But things could not end like this. If Bernie died, then Serena would never be able to tell her what she meant, and what the kiss meant.

“Then it won’t be your fault, Serena.” Ric reasoned, knowing that the women were close. Serena let out a slow breath, trying to calm herself. She wagged a finger at him, as tears pricked at her eyes. She fought against them. Ric didn’t deserve her anger. He didn’t understand. Hell,  _ she  _ didn’t understand.

“You don’t know that.”

“And you do?” His voice rose, trying to snap Serena out of it.

“Everything that has happened…” Serena wondered whether she should tell Ric, there and then, about the kiss. How she can’t get it off of her mind, or get Bernie off her mind. God knows, she needed to get out of her own head. Get some sort of impartial opinion on it. Ric might then see how this was partially her fault. She had flown out like a bat out of hell because she couldn’t look Berenice Wolfe in the bloody eye.

“Isn’t down to you.”

“Fielding might have her, Ric. I should have kept a closer eye, I should have insisted she call Psych as soon as possible, followed up with the police as soon as Fletch was stable.” She rambled. “I’m the police liaison for the trauma unit, not Bernie. Instead, I run off home because…” Serena stopped herself before revealing all. “-and now she’s either stuck in that fire, or stuck with a mad man.”

Bernie Wolfe was  _ terrifying _ her. Terrifying  _ to _ her. She’d never been more than friends with a woman before. Serena still wasn’t more than friends with Bernie, but that  _ kiss.  _ All of tonight’s events just meant that she couldn’t sit and ruminate over it. All of the events just meant her blood was boiling with feeling and she couldn’t even identify  _ what  _ she was feeling.

“If anyone can take care of themselves, it’s Bernie Wolfe.”

“You think?” Serena’s hand went to her pendant, playing with the two discs, her expression pure worry.

“Army surgeon, seen battlefields, fought insurgents, done surgery in the desert? I don’t know a more fearless doctor.” Ric got the feeling that he was missing something somehow. But he spoke the truth; Ric didn’t have much of a worry for Bernie Wolfe beyond normal levels. Frankly, there were other priorities like the hospital’s structural integrity, the fire, everything else that Serena had mentioned earlier. Odds were, Bernie was just lost in the chaos outside the hospital with the crowds of evacuated.

“Fearless...” Serena echoed, softly, breathlessly, looking down at her feet, a little dizzy. It seemed like days now since that moment of stillness. Of smiling at one another and just making Bernie feel better. The way Bernie always did for her, when she could. Her thoughts went once again to the kiss and the desperate clawing at surgical gowns, her need to feel her fingers in Bernie's hair, the heat from Bernie's lips...

“Do you need to go home?” Ric was eyeing her, concerned. 

“No. No, I’m fine.” She looked back up sharply, blushing at the turn her thoughts had taken. Ric furrowed his brow. Serena was definitely acting strange. Still, this wasn’t exactly a normal day. Ric trusted Serena to know her own mind, to help patients. They needed all the help they could get. 

“I need to go and call St James’, sort out patient moves and find out who the hell is in charge of the ED right now. Are you alright if I leave you?”

“Of course. Of course.”

“Bernie will be fine, Serena.” He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and then hurried off, leaving Serena still wrangling with her necklace, her worried gaze on the burning building, and her thoughts on her blonde co-lead. Was she okay? Was she in there?

*******

James and Bernie had heard the firefighters shouting, heard Serena’s yelling. Bernie had only begun to breathe again when she’d heard Serena be escorted out. An almighty crash had thundered past the ever constant sound of the fire, coming from outside the trauma stores, on the ward. The word to retreat had been given and James had started rooting in drawers, before pulling on a surgical mask around his face, no doubt for the smoke.

Bernie had fallen to the side, half on all fours, propped up by the workstation and cupboards, clutching at her abdomen. Her fingers dug in, self diagnosing the bruised ribs. Her back was killing her, aching pain from the base of her spine spanning upwards. It was like her body was wrapped tight in a vice. Massaging the muscles the best she could, her hand reached upwards to her neck, pulling back when she felt blood. Already clotted. A small amount, no doubt from where James had nicked her with the scalpel. She needed water. Cold water, preferably. An ice pack, something to soothe her burns but as with everything else, there was no chance. Not with James prowling like a cornered lion.

Bernie bit her lip to keep from crying out as she gingerly took off her scrub top, leaving her only in her long-sleeved. The sleeves had been pushed upwards when the blast hit, so the burns still covered her forearms. Hissing, she used all her adrenaline-given strength to tear the scrub top into strips. Next, Bernie used the strips of fabric to wrap up her forearms, to give them some form of protection. It hurt like a mother.

“What are you doing?” Bernie’s head snapped up at the low growl from James. He was much closer to her than she had realised, and cut an alarming figure with his wild eyes and blue surgical mask. Bernie jolted, only serving in banging her elbow.

“Nothing. It’s just covering the burns. I’m hurt, James.” Perhaps she could gain sympathy. He didn’t want her hurt, wasn’t that the whole point of this? In some weird and twisted way? He had attacked Fletch, kidnapped that other poor patient, all in the feeble idea of protecting Bernie herself. “We’re both hurt. Now,  _ please,  _ can we leave?”

“No!” He retreated, scratching the top of his head, pacing again. Bernie had to move. Her back was going to seize up at this rate. Tying off the dark blue rags, she moved, standing up with a keen. It was going to be a long road to recovery after she got out of this. If she got out of this. She was going to have to find an osteo. She certainly couldn’t go to Serena any more. 

It helped to think of the arbitrary, it was a good distraction. Though the time had to come, where Bernie had to focus on the job at hand. Like on the battlefield. Triage. Assess the situation. What did they need?  _ Air.  _ They needed air. If James wouldn’t let her go, then Bernie had to at least get them  _ both  _ out of the room. Out to somewhere with ventilation. A window to smash, at least. Gathering her courage, heart in her mouth, she stood up.

“Listen to me!” Bernie yelled, with every bit of force she could. It made James turn. It made his body shake. The scalpel stuck between them. “You want me to be a soldier? Here I am, Major Wolfe present and accounted for. We are going to  _ die  _ if we don’t get out of here. Do you understand me?”

James began his pacing again. Bernie didn’t know if she was getting through to him, whether she should even try, but she had to do something. She had to get out. She had to get the job done, and keep them both alive. James might be a madman, but he was still a human being. As a doctor, she had sworn an oath. They were getting out  _ together.  _ Never leave a man behind, even after this.

“James!” Bernie shouted again, her hand bracing her against the worktop, lungs burning with the effort it took to keep from coughing. She couldn’t show weakness. “We need to GET OUT! The smoke doesn’t have anywhere to go, you’re injured, I need equipment that you haven’t shredded or burnt! We’re getting out of here!”

“Shut up.”

“You’re being stupid! You think you can save us? Think the fire can’t hurt me? You’re wrong. Just look at me, James.” Bernie pressed, no longer caring about subtlety. James was breathing hard through his nose, then covered it with his arm, coughing into the sleeve. “Look at me!”

“SHUT UP!” James smashed Bernie’s head into the wall. Bernie dropped, reeling, tasting blood in her mouth. She’d split her lip. Her nose was also emitting a steady stream of blood now. She spat out blood, and wiped her face with her grey sleeve. It didn’t matter that he was shouting. It didn’t matter, because there was no one left. The firefighters had gone. She might as well be dead.

“James…  _ please…. _ ” She tried again, before she was wrenched up, off of the floor, blood clotting at her chin as her nose kept bleeding. His hand was fisted in her hair, twisting the curls tight against her scalp, pulling her and moving her so that she was flush against him, her back to his front. Bernie fought the urge to be sick, dizzy from her injuries and the smoke.

“We need to move.” He snarled. Bernie fought the stupid, cocky urge inside her to remind him that that had been her idea since the start. James once again stuck the scalpel near her throat, pulling her hair back to reveal the column of her neck to the blade. The message was clear. He was in charge. “Don’t try anything, Major.”

_ “Gah.” _ The moan slipped from her lips before she could stop it. Her ankle protested as he forced her forwards, towards the door, towards the flames. They reached the door, and James let her go, letting her fall against the wall. She wiped her nose again. 

Suddenly, she didn’t want to leave the trauma store. Irrationally, she wanted to stay in the blown-up trauma stores and stay there. But she had no choice as James pushed her in front of him, one arm still pulling tight against her hair, the other brandishing the scalpel and covering her torso. Bernie just kept her arms by her sides, smearing blood against the doorframe as they left the room.

“You’re going to stay silent. Do that, and I won’t  _ make  _ you.” James grabbed her again. Bernie was scared, attempting to dig her feet into the linoleum but James was too strong, her trainers slipping against fallen plastic packets and the threat of the scalpel keeping her from moving.

Bernie sucked in a breath, and prayed. She’d never been a religious type. Always found something to envy in those who were, who could show that much devotion or love, and take comfort in uncertainty. Bernie could never put her faith in anything like that. Her brain was wired to the cynical; faced with too much of the world’s horrors and warzone to be anything but that. Her life and luck had drained her of optimism. 

But right now, she’d try anything.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I cannot thank you guys enough for the response. As my poor beta readers will know, I never really think I'm any good! So getting reviews as I have is a real confidence-builder. I love you all loads. I am sorry that things will get a little bit tenser in this chapter, and there is a wee cliffhanger but... well, at least our girls are reunited?? Kinda...

Her ward. Her trauma unit. It was all up in flames. Blasted apart by the force from the explosion, the plastic curtains had fallen down, beds were empty, wheelchairs lying on their sides, paperwork and medical files everywhere. The panels from the ceilings; some had crashed to the ground, everything was chaos and full of smoke. She had to think. Bernie could try and overpower James. He was burnt as badly as her, there were some moves from the army that could take him down. But with that blade pressed close to her side, and her damaged ankle, she would never get that far. 

It was worse than any warzone she’d seen before. She didn’t know why- perhaps it was the perversion of her normalcy? This cove of domesticity she’d created with Serena and the rest of the staff, far away from the Middle East, the ward where things were, to an extent, calm and normal. In Afghanistan, you at least expected dangerous situations, and fire and blood. It wasn’t out of the ordinary to be injured on the job. Today had just been  _ madness. _

James rearranged his hold on Bernie, the hand in her hair letting go to then wrap around her waist, tight against her hips, as he manoeuvred her. It made Bernie want to retch, feeling his hold tighten, restricting her. She didn't even take a breath. She could smell him; body odour, sweat and washing powder from the police joggers. He hissed into her ear.

“You see? I saved you from this.” James dragged her away from AAU, drawing deeper into the hospital, and taking the emergency stairs near to Serena and Bernie’s office. That had taken most of the explosion. Their office was broken. Bernie could see a smashed photograph of Elinor Campbell through the half-hung blinds that were shredded by glass. She closed her eyes tight. She didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to see, she just wanted to think that at least Serena was alright. Serena was out. Everyone, all the patients as well. No one was in any more danger because of her. 

“ _ You _ caused this.” She spat, her mind picturing that very morning- a normal morning before she had got things so horribly wrong. Fletch up and about and healthy, Serena and her against the world, dealing with the ED overspill. Working as a team. Raf and Morven all helping out; thick as thieves. God, she hoped they were all okay. At least she knew Raf had left with plenty of time to get Fletch’s kids and go.  _ Those poor children.  _ And she knew that Morven and Serena had left the hospital. She just hoped it wasn’t with injuries. Morven was too young, already too wounded after Arthur. Serena also. Serena deserved the world; now she really would hate her, with the damage to AAU and the kiss and Fletch. Where else could the blame lay but at Bernie’s feet?

“Don’t make me regret choosing you, Major.” James’ words in her ear made her line of self-pity freeze.

“Choosing me?” Her eyes fluttered open again, just in time as they got to the steps down into the basement. Bernie just managed to keep her balance as they began their descent. James’ leg forced between hers to keep her moving and upright. 

“I said  _ shut up. _ ” James threatened and Bernie felt the blade dig into her throat again. Her eyes welled up with tears once more and she bit them back. He hadn’t killed her yet. God, she hoped that was a good thing.

“Okay… okay...” She licked her lips, tasting iron. One step at a time, like some clumsy four-legged crab, James driving them forwards, not that Bernie had much alternative. Even if she could overpower him, what then? Finally, the stairs ended and they went into the heart of the basement corridors, with the dark flooring and many linen cages for pillows and blankets queued at the sides. Doors for storerooms, rooms for the electrics, for heating, they were all down here. The large lift for deliveries and moving equipment, it was all down here, so shipments could come in from the car park. It was darker than most parts of the hospital, but it was, blissfully free of smoke.

It was also empty. Bernie hovered for a moment, hesitant once again, but James let go of her waist and torso and pushed her forwards. She let out a cry as a jolt of pain went from her ankle and right up her leg. She turned back to James, but he was stalking her, straight-backed. Hunter vs prey. Bernie turned back and walked in the direction he wanted.

*******

Outside in the car park, Serena was once again darting through straggling patients and staff, still on the lookout for Bernie, but her main focus had shifted to spotting someone else. Luckily, he was pretty easy to spot in a crowd. Every so often she would stop to help with a patient, or push along a stretcher into an ambulance heading for St James, doing what she could, calling out for an oxygen tank when someone looked bleary-eyed and breathless.

“Henrik!” She called out, prompting the tall man to look up. His blazer had been deposited somewhere else, and Henrik had his sleeves rolled up, and a stethoscope now lay around his neck. Serena ran to his side as he gave a reassuring smile to the woman whose dressing had needed replacement, then straightened up and turned to Serena.

“Ah, Ms Campbell, you'll be pleased to know the ceiling collapse was only partial to your ward and the fire department assure me the rest of the building is sound, and all patients and staff are accounted for.” They started walking, and Henrik snapped off the latex gloves he’d been wearing. Serena fell in step but stopped at his last words.

“What?”  _ All patients and staff.  _ All staff? She wasn’t so naive as to take his word as face value; he liked to pretend to be omniscient, but sometimes things just slipped.

“Yes, though still no word about James Fielding, I'm afraid.” His tone didn’t shift, but Serena could see the pinching at the side of his mouth, a sure sign of worry from the CEO. 

“What?” Serena repeated, but this time the word took on new meaning. He could be as calm as he liked, but the implications were clear. Mr Fielding was a present threat. Serena could only hope the delusional man had just taken his opportunity and run for the hills. “Henrik, you said all staff are accounted for?”

“As far as I am aware, why, do you know something different?”

“Bernie- Ms Wolfe. You've seen her?”

“No. I’m afraid my attention has been on the patients and the integrity of the hospital. I assumed she had been involved in the evacuation of your ward.”

“So what you're saying is that  _ no one  _ is looking for her? That she's  _ not  _ accounted for?” Serena attempted to clarify in a very measured, exact tone of voice. What little hope she had had was now crushed. Damn it, Bernie. Serena was going to shout at her when she saw her co-lead next. That’s definitely what she was going to do.

“I will coordinate with emergency services and ask around. I'm sure she can be found.” Henrik nodded, pensively.

“That's not good enough!” Serena pushed, just managing to restrain herself from stamping her foot like some sort of child. She was feeling half-delirious, considering that no one else seemed to be worried about Bernie. But Serena would blame the smoke if asked for her high temper.

“Ms Campbell, might I suggest restraint?”

“No one has seen Bernie since before the explosion, and you want me to exercise restraint? With James Fielding out there?” Serena knows the CEO of the hospital doesn’t need her ire, but it’s hard to keep the acid out of her voice. Doesn’t anyone understand how serious this is? That Bernie cannot be found? Not Ric, not Henrik, not even the  _ bloody  _ firefighters. “The man is obsessed with her! He stabbed Fletch because of it.” 

“And the police assure me that all is well in hand.” Hanssen attempted to assure her, but Serena was too busy being worried and trying to remember every interaction she had with James Fielding, any inkling that might help her find him or find Bernie.

All she needed was to see Bernie Wolfe, alive, well and unscathed in front of her. Because… well, because she'd gotten far too used to only having to pay for half a bottle of wine. And where would the ward be without her? Morven would be devastated, and she'd been through far too much this year. Fletch would need to thank the woman that essentially saved his life when he woke up. Never mind Jason. Serena’s heart was racing. Jason had become far too used to Bernie’s unique presence.

Bernie Wolfe tended to change one’s life. 

Serena put a hand on her chest, and looked upwards to the sky. She couldn’t deal with this right now. Biting down on any lecture about the dangers of having James Fielding running amok, she made her excuses to Henrik and left him with his duties. It was hard not to let her mind wander as she hurried around the police quardon, seeing the garish yellow tape flash in the light of the many sirens of all three emergency services. A plan was forming. It was ridiculous, stupid and quite possibly foolish. 

Indefensible, really.

Serena knew her ward like the back of her hand, knew the hospital almost as well, despite its size. She knew all the exits and entrances to AAU. If Bernie hadn’t come out with the rest of them, then she had to have left another way. Serena couldn’t get through the normal entrance, so she would choose another route; the basement. She wouldn’t leave Bernie. Whatever they were to each other, they had sworn to be partners. Serena can’t explain it; she wouldn’t do it for anyone else. But she has to.

She took off, weaved through patients, staff and emergency personnel alike, till she was in the car park, skirting around the edges of the hospital building, free from that yellow tape and all attention. She increased her pace, not quite running, holding the two halves of her blouse together as it fluttered around her figure, mind concentrated on her self-imposed task. Get to the basement, find Bernie, get Bernie out.

It was eerie, being in the basement without anyone. Serena couldn’t help but feel tense, the silence deafening. Usually, there were porters and cleaners milling about, the sound of the haulage lifts and the rolling wheels of bins and trolleys. Not that she ever came down here very often. After the occasional wandering patient or skiving junior doctor, but mainly she came to these corridors to pick up Jason after his shift, or just as a way of getting to the car park. Now it was distinctly uncomfortable.

Serena focused on whether she could hear anything at all. Footsteps or voices or any sound that might give her an indication that was coming. Footsteps were her main concern she could know who was coming by footsteps; Bernie had a particular gait that she had come to know, silent trainers notwithstanding. She also just needed to stay alert, and not let her panic overwhelm her. There was the present danger of the man that had stabbed Fletch being somewhere around here as well, more than likely. Hadn’t the stabbing been down here as well? She shivered.

The corridor she was at forked. Serena edged to the corner but then froze, hearing something a little way away. Slowly, achingly slowly, she moved to look around the corner. Her heart nearly stopped. Two figures, coming her way, heading to the exit. Serena whipped her head back. She was breathing deeply. She’d gotten only a fleeting look, but knew Bernie when she saw her; there was no mistaking that hair. Bernie and a male figure that had to be James. Serena put a hand on her chest, then to her pendant around her neck, trying to calm her breathing, and think. They were moving slowly, she had the time before Bernie and James got too close.

But then Bernie let out a  _ scream.  _

It tore through Serean’s guts, made her hair stand on edge. She had never heard a scream like it, but Serena could not mistake it for anyone else. Regretfully, as much as Serena wanted to run straight towards the scream, which she knew in her heart was Bernie, she had to be practical. James Fielding. He was a danger. Serena fished her phone out from her pockets. Edging towards the basement entrance, she dialled Ric’s number. She pressed the mobile to her ear, her other hand playing with the nape of her neck. The scream rang out again and Serena screwed her eyes shut, trying to block it out and focus on the dialling tone. Her throat felt tight. She was no action woman. Hell, she’d never even been to a self-defence class, which right now seemed to be a gross oversight. 

But upon closing her eyes tight against the sound, all she could picture was Bernie in pain. Her soulful eyes were tearful with the endurance of utter agony. Serena’s body was buzzing; she couldn’t just stay here and do nothing. Bernie needed her. Her own state of body was secondary. Difficult patients, she had at least dealt with them, even dangerous ones; she had training. Of course, security had always been a few moments behind. Hence, the phone call. Finally, Ric picked up.

“Serena?” 

“Ric!” Relief flooded her, eyes opening back up and her hands gripping the phone tighter. Serena knew she had to be quick. “Get the police, get them to the basement.” 

“What?” Ric hollered down the phone. He wasn’t sure he’d heard her right with all then noise on his end, and Serena speaking very quietly. “The basement?”

“Just do it. I think he’s got Bernie.”

“Serena, stay there. Don’t do anything.” Ric ordered. It didn't take a genius to understand who Serena was talking about. Ric was alarmed, knowing that if Serena had that information, it wasn't only Bernie Wolfe in danger.

“Ric…” She didn’t need to finish her sentence. They both knew what she was getting at. Serena wasn’t about to stay back when she could do something. She wasn’t that sort of doctor, nor that sort of person. The sidelines weren’t where she was comfortable. Plus, whatever she and Bernie were to each other, Serena knew without one shred of doubt… Bernie wouldn’t hesitate if it was the other way around.

“Serena, stay there!” On Ric’s end, he was running around, waving for the police captain's attention. He would lead the way, get some paramedics as well. No doubt Bernie and Mr Fielding would be fairly beaten up if they’d been in the hospital that long. But Ric needed Serena to stay on the line, and not do anything rash.

“Just get them down here.” She hung up before he could protest. Serena took a deep breath and readied herself. This was mad. Ridiculous. She should just wait, and do what Ric said- likely she would be safer that way. Serena wiped her face, free of dirt and sweat, her hair all over the place. No.  _ No _ , she would not do what Ric had advised. Not when there was a chance that she might hear that scream again.

Serena rounded the corner, and stood in the middle of the corridor. Neither of the two were looking at her yet. She screwed her courage to the sticking place: “Mr Fielding!”

James and Bernie looked up and around at the sound of Serena’s yell, letting her get a good view of their faces. Bernie. Christ, Bernie was a  _ mess.  _ Serena had had this image of her, the last time they had seen each other, of Bernie looking so fresh and rosy. The pale light of the hospital with that angelic complexion and the light blue scrubs. Now she was damaged. Covered in blood; a horrifying amount of her own. Her face, her gorgeous face, had a bloody nose, a split lip and a cut across her neck all caked in dried blood. Serena recoiled at the sight of her Bernie with her clothing torn, her scrub top ripped into makeshift bandages that hung loosely, so that Serena could still spy burnt, red skin beneath. Her undershirt exposed, without the second layer, made her look thinner and more vulnerable. Her curls, rather than looking sweet and messy, were matted and wild. Serena could see the way Bernie was carrying herself as well, refusing to put much weight on one foot, her posture also bent at the waist, though whether that was due to her back or her chest, Serena didn’t know. She had an unabashed, deep desire to tend to Bernie, soothe her aches and pains, massage her back and clean her face. Make her look like Bernie again.

But they were twenty feet apart. James Fielding had her, an arm locked around her waist and another near her neck, and was that a-  _ oh god.  _ Serena saw the scalpel. Saw the cut it had already made, shallow against Bernie’s skin. She’d never seen Bernie so scared. That terrified her. Bernie didn’t get scared. They’d been in seemingly impossible situations when in surgery, it was near-impossible to make Berenice Wolfe flinch. They’d delivered a baby together in the trauma unit, Bernie practically without breaking a sweat, while Serena had fretted about Pediatrics- Bernie was…  _ fearless. _

“Bernie.” She whispered under her breath, stepping forward. She was trying to convey  _ everything  _ in that sweet utterance of Bernie’s name. How hard she’d fought to find her, how much she meant to her, how she would never, ever even think of leaving her. Bernie looked over at the sound and saw Serena, finally, and her eyes widened in horror. 

“No…” Bernie whispered in a gasping moan. _ Not Serena, please, not Serena _ . She couldn’t believe that Serena was standing there, alone, looking rather red, and out of breath, her blouse barely hanging on to one shoulder, and her hair had seen better days, but her eyes were wide and alive. Serena locked those eyes with Bernie. Silent conversation flowed, as it did so easily on their ward. Bernie’s eyes were pleading, as they had been when she had been asking Serena to protect Cameron that day. Who was she asking Serena to protect now? There was something else there as well. Resolution. Bernie was resolved. Bernie wanted Serena to run.

“Get back! Get back!” James yelled, tightening his grip on Bernie and Serena recoiled, seeing his fingers leave red marks against her co-lead. She summoned up all her courage, holding her hands out and open, as one would approach a wild animal. Slowly, Serena took steps forward.

“O-okay, Mr Fielding. James, wasn’t it? Can I call you James?” She got no response, but forged onwards, trying to ignore Bernie’s expression. She put one hand against her chest, the other still out in surrender. “I’m Serena, I’m one of the doctors on the ward that was treating you.” 

“Serena…  _ go. _ ” Bernie whimpered, words barely legible. 

“The police are on their way, James. Just let Bernie go, and I’m sure this can all be sorted out.” Her voice came out stronger than that time, hoping that her words were true and Ric was coming as fast as he could. She had two options; make James surrender, or keep him talking long enough for the police to come and arrest him.

“S’rena…” Bernie tried to take a step forwards, yearning to be with Serena.

“Not one word from you.” Neither woman knew if James was talking to them or not, so both stayed silent, still, like deer caught in the headlights. Serena had to believe she could talk James down. Bernie was terrified with the knowledge that Serena couldn’t. “You think I don’t know your games?” He moved forward, Bernie behind him, now a barrier between the two surgeons.

“Just put the scalpel down. This doesn’t have to end badly.”

“You want her!” James shouted at Serena. Serena flinched.

“I- yes.” The word landed deep, flat in the echo of the corridor. What else could she say? They even took Serena by surprise, as they passed her own lips. Instantly, she looked to Bernie’s eyes, despite the threat that James posed. She saw the expression change into something unreadable. Serena’s cheeks burned, her head dipped down slightly. Her eyes cast downwards. The implication from the madman was clear; some sort of twisted conspiracy. The question that Serena had answered was anything but clearcut. Serena wanted Bernie. It was a truth that had hit like a bullet since the kiss, and her feelings were bleeding out from the wound. Of course she wanted Bernie. How could she not want Bernie? It was terrifying and overwhelming but Serena forced herself to look back at Bernie.

Bernie herself couldn’t look away from Serena. Every motion and movement was studied, even if Bernie couldn’t decipher what it meant. She knew Serena Campbell pretty well by now. She knew the Matriarch of AAU, the stellar Vascular Surgeon, Jason’s Auntie and Holby’s Best Flirt. All the personas, all the many sides that made up the woman she cared so much for. This look was new. No. Not new. She’d seen it once before, for a split second. A split second before Serena’s lips had crashed back down onto hers earlier that day. Bernie tamped those thoughts down.

Why had Serena come down here? Why had she put herself in such danger? And what did she mean? Bernie knew what she wished. A delirious thought that maybe Serena  _ wanted  _ her. That the kiss meant as much to Serena as it had to Bernie. It had sent Bernie’s world spinning. Bernie licked her lips, praying that they got out of this, and had that conversation.

“She’s mine!” James yelled, manhandling Bernie as he stepped backwards a few steps, heading towards the exit. Serena moved forward. It was a mistake. Before she even knew what was happening, she saw James throw Bernie. Bernie crashed into the linen cages lined up against the wall, falling with a yell. Serena matched it, hands flying to her mouth, before her feet move again, running over to help Bernie, but before she can, she’s met with the ranting figure of James Fielding, threatening her with the scalpel. Serena stopped, her hands held up in a placating position, attention torn between the blade aimed at her chest and Bernie at the side, who is keening slowly, doubled over on the floor. “You can’t have her! Do you hear? I know your tricks! All of you! You and that man, watching me, watching  _ her  _ every chance you got!”

“I-” Serena tried to interrupt, but James was accelerating, jabbing the scalpel at her to punctuate every word, forcing Serena further from Bernie.

“ _ You!  _ This is all  _ your  _ fault!” He was wild, his thoughts back on the ward, previously, to all his memories of the short-haired woman. She’d blocked his questions about Bernie. She had tried to keep them apart, and then, he had watched her, seeing how she followed the Major around with her eyes, distracting her, talking to her. James strode at a fast pace, causing Serena to back up, hands still extended in surrender. “Always  _ watching, _ trying to keep us apart, to  _ stop me _ being near the Major!”

“Serena, just go!” Bernie cried out, trying to get up off of the floor. But she was so tired, and in pain, and couldn’t tear her gaze away from James and Serena. Her eyes were wide and pleading, and even after her words, her lips still moved, mouthing any sort of prayer she could think of, though she didn’t believe.  _ Just go. _

“Not without you!” Serena fired back, and moved against James’ orders, to get to Bernie.

“What did I  _ say? _ ” He didn’t like that, and crowded her, herding her backwards. Bernie grabbed onto the nearby linen cage and tried to pull herself up. She needed to get up. Serena was in danger. She needed to save Serena. James thrust the scalpel towards her. Once, twice, three times, to get Serena to back off. Her arms were still outstretched, and she flinched, before hugging herself. She heard Bernie yell out in pain again. But she was standing, albeit breathing hard through her nose.

“Let her go. You’ve got me.” Bernie called to James, trying to grab his attention. She was still trying to catch her breath, her ankle pulsing with pain and her ribs aching. It didn’t matter. Bernie swallowed against her dry throat. James didn’t listen to her. She didn’t even know if he could  _ hear  _ her, so madly intent on Serena was he. Bernie tried again, louder this time. “You’ve got me, it’s fine, just let her go. She can’t do anything.” She locked eyes with Serena, just wishing she would  _ run.  _

“James.” Serena knew that Ric and the police were on their way. She knew that she could run, that Bernie wanted to her to. But she couldn’t leave her. It wasn’t a choice. They were partners. They had promised to have each other’s back, they worked well together, they were friends, they were  _ more  _ than friends.

“Your fault!” James jabbed the scalpel again. Stupid tears fell from Serena’s eyes. Bernie braced herself on the nearby wall to keep herself upright, and moved towards the two.

“Please.” Serena pleaded, eyes darting between James and Bernie. James was muttering to himself, his face twisted from the previous calm he had displayed on the ward. He was jittery, his hand still clasped around the blade, and he then reached up to scratch and bang at his head. Serena bit her lip. Was this her chance?

“No.” James shook his head. “No, no, no no!”

“James,” Serena replied, worried as his actions grew more and more violent. She saw him snap.

“Leave us _ALONE!_” He lunged. 

“Stop, no!” Serena cried out. James struck Serena across the face with such force it sent her into the wall, with her only just managing to brace herself with her hands to keep her steady. Bernie looked back as she heard Serena yell out in pain. James was advancing. Her mind went blank. Serena was in danger, shrinking back against the wall, trying to get as far away from James Fielding and his scalpel as possible.

“Serena!” All Bernie could do was launch herself off of her one good foot and grab James by the shoulders, wrenching him away from Serena. Serena screamed as the two in front of her toppled and Bernie ended up on her back with a loud cry, the scalpel stuck between the two bodies. 


	4. Chapter 4

Time slowed for Bernie. She felt herself hit the floor, ricochet with force, and then grimace in pain as James landed hard on top of her. The pressure of his body knocked all the breath out of her, and she felt something wet against her chest. Dizzily, she knew what it was likely to be. Bernie vaguely wondered which one of them was bleeding. She tasted iron in her mouth, and then closed her eyes. The scene seemed to pause; James and Bernie sprawled on the floor, a pool of blood steadily growing from between them. Serena was breathing hard, near hyperventilation at what had just played out. Bernie had- and then James had- and now there was  _ blood. _

Suddenly everything was loud again. Her ears rang, heart thumping loudly, and there were shouts coming from all around. Police swarmed; five of them around the bend and instantly over to the three.  _ Thank God.  _ Relief flooded the vascular surgeon, who sank back against the wall, as a police officer came to her, holding her by her shoulders. Serena was nodding vaguely as the officer asked about how she was, if she was hurt or something. Truthfully, she wasn’t listening, she was already pushing the police officer away from her, eyes glued on everything else. On James. Nausea hit her in waves as she saw the scalpel sticking out of James’ stomach. Superficial. Treated quickly, he’d be fine. Serena hoped it hurt him.

The police yelled out for the EMTs to get in there. James Fielding was hauled away, feet dragging along the floor, only semi-conscious, by police. Serena tried to feel sympathy for the man, but in truth it was contempt that made her watch them take him away, rather than any concern. Not after the last few hours. Not after Fletch. Not after Bernie.

_ Bernie _ .

Bernie was still sprawled on the floor, one hand over her ribs, the other splayed outwards, not having moved from when the police had dragged James off of her. Serena's heart quickened. Bernie had her eyes shut. To Serena's sheer relief however, they soon tightened in a grimace of pain and her lips let out a hiss- she was awake. Alive and awake. Serena could have sobbed in relief. A great weight lifted as it finally hit her; it was over. James was away from them, the hospital was safe. They were both safe. Serena pushed away from the officer and ran over to Bernie’s side, and knelt down.

Only now could she truly count and catalogue what that monster had done to Bernie. Definite bruised ribs considering her wheezing, at least. Sprained ankle, superficial cut to her throat and all those burns, likely second degree from what Serena could make out, all along her arms. Tears that had been gathering at her eyes began to fall rapidly, silently. Serena wiped them away as Bernie opened her eyes. She had more to deal with than Serena blubbering over her. Bernie didn't seem to notice; her back was seizing and she needed to get upright. Gritting her teeth, she put her weight on her injured arms to push herself up.

“Ooh-hoo.” Bernie’s voice was wobbly. This was going to take a stint with a good physiotherapist. Bernie could feel her muscles attempting to spasm. Her fingers all but clawed at the floor as she pushed herself up. Then, her hand was taken by another. Bernie looked up through her mass of hair, mind swimming. When had Serena moved to be by her side? Serena was taking her hand, allowing Bernie to put all her weight on her.

“Easy does it, Major.” A small smile. Serena wasn't going to ask her to get to her feet, not on that ankle, but they slowly and surely moved so that they rested, sitting upright, against the wall of the corridor. Bernie's feet stuck out lamely, too weary to move any more, Serena’s legs were underneath herself, tucked away to the side. She reached out again to Bernie.

“What are you-?” Bernie started to say, before it became apparent to her. Serena took the arm closest and rested it gently in her lap. Their fingers brushed again and Serena bit down a smile, glancing sheepishly away and swallowing, before turning her eyes critically to the skin she could see- all inflamed glaring out between strips of fabric. It must hurt like hell, Serena thought, and wondered how Bernie was not currently yelling out in pain. Even the feather-light touches of Serena’s fingers would cause pain, but Bernie bore it well. Better than Serena, seemingly. Serena was prepared to wince  _ for  _ her, as she looked over the wounds.  _ Silly, stupid, brave woman.  _ Serena’s jaw clenched against tears, trying to focus on the medical than the matters of the heart.

“Last thing we need is that fabric getting fused with those burns.” Serena explained, softly, not looking at Bernie. She felt that if she did, she would either cry, or shout. If she looked at Bernie’s face then everything would come rushing to the fore, and she might be reminded too much of the last time they were on the floor together, after a disaster. She swallowed, starting to untie the knots of fabric. Bernie jerked with the pain.

“Sorry.” The apology was for more than the movement. If Serena couldn’t look at Bernie, then it was all Bernie could do. It was still hard to believe that Serena was there with her, or even that she had come searching at all. Bernie’s cheeks burned as her eyes traced the red mark left behind from James Fielding’s strike against Serena’s face. She bit back all cries of pain as Serena took her time, unwinding the strips of scrub fabric, trying to be as silent as she could.

“I should think so.” Serena muttered, putting the soiled pseudo-bandages to one side. The vascular surgeon in her was already thinking of arterial damage, skin grafts, blood flow. No doubt all exacerbated by Bernie’s supposed heroics. The anger came out as cutting as expected, but even Serena was surprised by the hurt in her own voice. “I mean, what were you thinking? Running at him like that, when he was armed? Never mind before that, telling me to run.” Her voice went small at the end, out of steam. She was too tired to be angry. Too aware of the consequences of the worst case scenario, had it happened. Bernie for her part, made no objection. Serena let out another shaky breath. “As if I'd ever leave you.”

“I thought you'd gone home.” Bernie offered, lamely. Ever a woman of few words, but all abundant in meaning. She thought Serena had gone home, in the physical sense of having left the hospital. She thought Serena had gone, from her circles of friends, their kinship ruined. And she thought that Serena wouldn’t want anything to do with her. It was hard to keep a lid on hope when Serena was being so tender now.

“I would have, if someone hadn't blown up our ward.” Serena was still refusing to look at Bernie, having unwrapped one arm and moved to the other. They communicated like they did in theatre; instinctively and silently. Already Serena could tell this arm, her right, is worse than the other. She went about working at the knots, assuming Bernie had pulled them tighter by her teeth, without the use of her dominant hand. They held well, and were fiddly. Bernie just looked on, eyes wide and vulnerable, ever-wondering where they stood.

“I saw the damage. Serena, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t you dare. It’s all replaceable. You aren’t.”

“I'm sorry. I just… acted on instinct. I didn't want James to get to Morven, or onto the ward.” Bernie looked away, into her lap. It sounded so stupid, but it had all happened so quickly. All of it. From seeing James, to seeing Serena threatened. Her voice sounded ever smaller, crushed by self-flagellation. “And then, I just didn’t want him to hurt you.”

“You terrified me, Bernie.” The words tumbled from her, as if she didn’t say them now, she never would. Serena was speaking of the entire day. Her hands on Bernie’s wounds stilled, as her own words hit her. The truth was stark. Bernie Wolfe did terrify her. Had terrified her. Somewhere between James Fielding being hauled away, and the very seconds that passed now, she had stopped being terrified of Bernie Wolfe and everything she was. All the chaos, and feeling. Ever since she had lurched forwards to claim her lips with her own. The realisation that you're not exactly who you thought you were for the past fifty or so years had hit her hard. The only way Serena could rationalise it was that facing the possibility she might  _ lose  _ Bernie… that was scarier than entertaining the idea of falling for her. The idea of loving her.

“I wasn't thinking.” Bernie reiterated. Serena’s lips pressed into a line, obviously disapproving of the thin excuse, getting back to her task of cleaning up Bernie’s burns. Her nails, whilst removing a delicate piece of fabric away from the burns, managed to catch on the damaged skin. It was like an electric shock through Bernie, who lurched, eyes going wide and looking at Serena. “Ow!”

“Sorry.” She winced. It was harder to do this with fingertips than tweezers like they normally did on the ward. It was also harder to do it on someone you cared for, without losing concentration. Serena blinked a couple of times, eyelashes fluttering, trying to centre herself, and not make any more mistakes. “ _ There _ . All done.” It came out as a whisper. Her heart thudded in her ears. Slowly, she bent her head downwards, and pressed her lips against Bernie’s palm, thankfully untouched by burns. She sat back up, and finally looked at Bernie, hands still touching.

Bernie’s eyes burned into her. “Serena…”

“I just don’t know what I would have done if you’d…” Her breath caught in her throat.Her eyes welled up with tears again. Bernie was just looking at her with such tenderness. All through this, she had put Serena first, had risked her life for Serena’s life and Serena had come so close to losing her. She couldn’t imagine life without her now.

Serena didn’t know why, didn’t know what it meant, but all she knew was that in that moment, she  _ had  _ to kiss Bernie. It was the only thing to do, the only way to show her just how scared Serena had been, the relief she know felt in knowing and seeing Bernie alive in front of her. It transcended all logic, all thought. Serena needed to show just how much Bernie meant to her.  _ What  _ Bernie meant to her. There was no other way except to surge forwards and capture her lips with her own.

At first, Bernie tensed, overcome by shock, but her eyes quickly fluttered shut as she simply let the feelings wash over her and revel in the marvel that was Serena Campbell kissing her. It was like a drug. An anesthesia; Bernie didn’t care around her burnt arms when she could wind them around Serena’s waist. Didn’t care about her bruised ribs when she could press them close against Serena’s chest. She felt only Serena’s lips, Serena’s clothes, her heart beating faster and faster, not from adrenaline but from being about to  _ burst  _ with feeling. Her hand reached up and cupped Serena’s jawline, taking all she could before it might be taken away.

Serena moaned into the kiss, shifting for a better angle. God, how had she run away from  _ this?  _ Bernie tasted sweet. Chocolate and honeycomb. It was different but it was glorious. She felt Bernie shift in her arms and let out a hiss. Breaking the kiss, rather reluctantly, Serena looked at her battered and bruised medic. Bernie was smiling though.

“Sorry.” Bernie muttered, breathless and giddy. “Split lip.” Serena couldn't help but let out a watery laugh at that, her hand coming up, a thumb swiping across Bernie's bleeding lower lip. Then, as if shocked, she blinked, blushed and pulled away, her face unable to control the smile on her face. Bernie caught her hand, held it in her own. After a while their fingers interlocked, lacing together.

Slowly, tenderly, Bernie made the first move this time, and kissed Serena. Both women could taste the iron on their lips but didn’t care as they melted into it, giddily, greedily, smiling into the kiss. Serena’s hands moved again to the back of Bernie’s head, pushing her towards her, fingertips buried against soft curls. Bernie wound her arms around Serena’s waist, pulling her closer by the hips, palms exploring the plains of her back and finding a sweet spot in the small dip at the base of her spine. Serena hummed against Bernie’s lips, adjusting her sitting position to get closer and closer as they both kissed each other senseless. Bernie peppered light kisses on Serena’s lips only for Serena to deepen it and for Bernie to moan. It was glorious.

They heard movement and shouts and sprung apart apart. Bernie’s entire face was flushed and she was breathing deeply. Serena couldn’t look at Bernie but couldn’t  _ not  _ look at her, her own expression one of sheer happiness and of being thoroughly kissed. She snuck a glance at Bernie, only to see Bernie already looking at her. Serena blushed, and linked their hands together. A silent message; I’m okay with this if you are. And she was. Deliriously so. It was an unthinkable possibility that morning, and now Serena couldn’t help but feel a little foolish for not spotting it earlier. She had fallen in love before.

The paramedics rounded the corner, a harassed looking Ric bringing up the rear. He visibly deflated when he saw Serena and Bernie were okay. Serena’s phone call had frightened him half to death, and he’d seen James Fielding being dragged out, injured and with conspicuous marks in blood on his clothing that had been a lot drier than the scalpel wound in his ribs. He quickly assessed them; Bernie looked banged up, but Serena was nearly untouched. The point was, his friends were both safe. The paramedics swarmed the two women, radioing for a stretcher for Bernie, and having a look at the rest of her injuries after Serena had batted them off of herself, telling them they should focus on the blonde and that she was unhurt. Bernie and Serena shared another look between them, imperceptible, fond.

Ric smiled, relieved that this day seemed to have a happy ending. The hospital didn’t need any more tragedy. His skills unneeded, he simply stood back and watched as the stretcher came in and Bernie was strapped in and loaded up. And if Ric noticed the two women were holding hands, he didn't say a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue to go now, folks xxx


	5. Epilogue

It was raining as Serena drove into the Holby City car park and made for her usual spot near the Wyvern entrance. The hospital, burnt and bruised by all the events, was still a building site, despite the weeks that had passed. AAU had been the first priority, as had been the ED. Miraculously, the damage otherwise was cosmetic at best, superficial at best. It was functional at least, all the smoke damage had been fixed, and Serena had overseen the reinstatement of the trauma unit herself. The car came to a gradual stop and Serena pulled the handbrake and switched off the engine, giving a small sigh of satisfaction, before looking to her left.

Bernie gave a toothy grin back to Serena, happy to be finally back at work after her recovery. They were still half an hour early, but Serena had said she liked to be punctual; punctuality being the art of waiting for the careless. It was also for this. The small moment they had before the hospital burst the small bubble they had, and a toast to the last few seconds of the day where they could simply be themselves, rather than professional personas, unable to reach out to one another with staff and patients watching.

Serena did just that, and reached out to hold Bernie’s hand. Her wounds had all healed nicely, and whilst her ankle would be sprained for some weeks yet, Serena had managed to get Hanssen to agree to Bernie’s return, provided it was light duties, at Bernie’s request. That was better than nothing for the trauma surgeon, who regarded bedrest as something that left a bad taste in the mouth. It had been made just a little better by the majority of her recovery being spent at Serena’s house rather than alone in her dreary flat. Jason had been especially gracious, given his schedule, and it had brought Serena great joy to see Bernie and Jason, fish and chips in their laps, yelling out quiz show answers to the telly.

The spell was broken, as Bernie looked towards the hospital, and they both went to get out of the car, ready and raring to get back on their ward, where they thrived. Bernie especially, having had her leave. Serena had never left; she’d taken over running everything, as well as helping Hanssen with light administerial duties. Nothing that she couldn’t handle, but she was very glad to have her partner back to ease some of the workload. They both hoped for a calm, productive day.

Bernie opened her car door, grabbing her stick from the back seat as she did, and puffing out her cheeks as she levelled her injured foot onto the asphalt, letting the air out as she hoisted her weight up and out of the seat. She wobbled.

“Bernie, wait!” Serena had busted her, rushing around her side of the car to help her. Bernie frowned, adjusting the strap of her satchel on her shoulder, and flexing her fingers on the handle of her cane. It was just a matter of not putting too much weight on one side.

“I can get out of a car, Serena.” Bernie’s foot was taped up to keep everything in place, but other than that, she looked the same as ever, bar a light scar from the scalpel, on her neck to join the other surgical scar. Her arms had healed pretty well, but were still rather raw. She wore her long-sleeved t-shirt underneath her hospital hoodie, still largely preferring comfort over style, and definitely preferring to keep her latest bouts of injuries under wraps. It was likely to only invite questions. Serena, on the other hand, wore her light coloured mackintosh over another lovely blouse and a dangly pair of earrings. Practically perfect, in Bernie’s mind.

“Not very well, clearly.” Serena pointed out, dryly. Bernie gave a self-deprecating huff, looking up at her girlfriend through her blonde fringe. Serena rolled her eyes and offered out her arm for Bernie to put her weight on her. “Come on, hold my hand.”

“Any excuse.” Bernie flirted, as she grasped Serena’s hand to pull her up, smiling all the way, despite one gasp of pain as she left her seat. Serena resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and focused on getting Bernie upright. 

“You’re incorrigible, do you know that?” She closed the car door behind them, and then returned her grip. One hand in Bernie’s, the other lightly on her forearm as Bernie walked. The flirty side of Bernie had been a pleasant surprise from an attraction that had started so timid. It was no different than the banter they normally had, it just strayed into different conversations and often ended in very good make-out sessions on the sofa. Serena loved it. She couldn’t help but smile, even as she worried about Bernie’s tentative steps.

“Irresistible.” Bernie cheekily parried back. Serena would have proven her right and snogged her there and then, had they not been on hospital grounds. She took the car keys from her pocket and locked it with a reassuring click of the button.

“Have you ever thought about trying modesty?” Bernie winced in pain as they reached the small ramp to the front doors, faltering a little on the uneven surface. Serena tightened her hold on Bernie, before she brushed a fallen curl behind her ear to get a better look at her girlfriend’s expression. “You alright?”

“Yeah, just a bit wobbly. I’ll be fine once we get up the ramp.” Bernie nodded and they started up again, making quicker progress now that Bernie had the hang of her stick.

“Hanssen wants to see me for a meeting, but I can walk you into AAU first.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“I’m sure Hanssen will understand.” Serena replied, but Bernie shook her head and Serena didn’t press it. Bernie appreciated the sentiment, and normally would like to stroll onto AAU with her co-lead, but Henrik was leaning on Serena heavily, so she didn’t want her to be late. Bernie just wanted everything to go back to normal, and despite her grumblings and inadequacies acting the patient, Serena knew that as soon as she got on that ward, Bernie would be sitting down at her desk, and elevating her foot on one of the extra chairs in their office. It would also allow them to avoid any questions regarding arriving together. In the same car.

The automatic doors to the Wyvern Wing swished open and Serena let her hold drop from Bernie, so they simply walked side by side. Bernie braced both hands on her stick and walked carefully, well aware of Serena’s watchful eye.

“Fletch is being woken today.” Bernie said, and Serena looked at her in shock as they reached Pulses, and the end of it’s rather long morning queue.

“How do you-”

“Morven texted me.” Bernie blushed. Serena tutted; she should have known.

“So  _ that’s  _ why you were so insistent in coming back to work.”

“I want to work, Serena.” She also wanted to be there when Fletch woke up. A few weeks of being an invalid was fine by her, but it was Fletch she was really worried about. Serena had said they’d tried waking him before, last week, but his vitals hadn’t liked it. Bernie was determined to be there and do what she could to help.

“See if you’re still saying that a couple of hours into paperwork duty.” Serena said, and Bernie let out a groan. She hated paperwork, and Serena ruddy well knew it. She thought she could do at least small surgeries, a few hours long, or even less. Something to get her hands dirty, rather than being chained to a desk all day. She could put  _ some  _ weight on her ankle, just not for long. It didn’t hamper her ability to treat patients and do her normal ward rounds, she just needed to take it slow, sit down every once in a while. With her stick, she’d be grand at walking up and down the corridors of AAU. Serena fixed Bernie with a look. There was not a cat in hell’s chance. “You didn’t honestly think you’d be doing surgery with your ankle still healing, did you?”

It was likely better not to answer that, though Bernie’s expression clearly showed she had  _ hoped.  _ But Serena was going to be adamant on Bernie’s recovery process. She was in charge of theatre lists and rotas, and even with them still down Fletch, they had Raf and the F1s to help, and Hanssen would be more than accommodating if Serena had to persuade him to be. They reached the front of the queue, and Serena went to get her purse from her handbag.. 

“I’ll buy.” Bernie put a hand over Serena’s, stopping her. Serena looked up. Bernie cocked her head. “Pastry?” 

For a moment, Serena thought about quipping that this was simply a bribe to get back into the operating theatre, but she knew it wasn't, and decided not to, smiling instead at the thoughtful gesture. She nodded, and that was enough to widen Bernie’s grin, as Bernie took her purse from her own satchel. They didn't need to go through coffee orders. They knew each other's off by heart, of course. 

“Pain au chocolat. You’re not the only one with medicinal needs.” Serena smirked, remembering the previous night as Bernie proceeded to order their two coffees and one pain au chocolat. “I can’t believe I had to finish that bottle on my own.”

The evening before had been spent at a little Italian, newly opened and with food to die for. It also didn't hurt that it had a very extensive wine list for Serena to peruse. Bernie couldn't imbibe, she was still on her painkillers, though slowly weaning off of them now. But it had been a lovely night, with wonderful company. And if they had woken up together then that simply made it all the more wonderful.

“You could’ve ordered by the glass. You’re just using my painkillers as an excuse.” The Pulses' employee passed over their drinks on the counter and the small pastry in a paper bag. Bernie took them one by one, still holding onto her stick, and muttered her thanks to the barista.

“Me? Never.” It’s a blatant lie they both chuckled at. Serena took her drink and pastry from Bernie and then turned to get the sugars from the side station.

Bernie watched her, still unable to believe quite how wonderful they were together- that they were even together at all. It was hard to shift the smile from her lips. She was happy. That rare, elusive feeling that settled in Bernie Wolfe’s chest and she never wanted it to go. For it to do so, she felt, would be to leave her empty and lonely. For a woman who hardly had her life together, things were looking up. It was all down to the brunette currently pouring two brown sugars in a black coffee. A marvel of a woman who had done so much for her. No wonder the grin couldn’t be moved.

Serena caught Bernie’s eye, and blushed. Like a bloody schoolgirl with a crush. It was silly, this whole thing was. But she loved it. It was miraculous, the change that Bernie had brought over her lief. Professional and personal now. The quiet domesticity of Bernie’s recovery at her house hadn’t even been something Serena knew she had missed. The date nights, still in the single digits, were fast becoming cherished memories. They couldn’t do  _ everything  _ yet, not with Bernie being as she was physically. But they hadn’t done  _ nothing  _ that was for certain. It was the giddy heights of a new relationship that made Serena’s vivacious personality blossom. 

Things were still very new, and hesitant. They hadn’t told anyone about the relationship, though Serena had told Ric after a few glasses of Shiraz, unable to keep the simple fact that she was  _ happy  _ to herself any longer. He’d been wonderful about it. It had boosted Serena’s confidence tremendously. Though the hospital was still a feeding frenzy for gossip, and both Serena and Bernie had put too much stock into their professional reputations to feed the beast. Stories had circulated however; of Serena and Bernie, and the altercation with Mr Fielding. Each one more exaggerated than the last, likely due in part to Dr Copeland blowing up any morsel he’d extracted from Morven. But nothing was official. They could still be in their bubble, for now.

Serena blinked, having realised they’d just been staring into each other’s eyes for a good ten seconds. She busied herself putting the lid back onto her coffee and take up her pastry again. The way they were acting, it was going to be round the hospital like a rash.  _ Oh, well.  _ Bernie shifted to make way for her and they left Pulses and went to the elevator, despite only Serena needing it for her meeting. The lift arrived and they moved apart to let others out. Serena entered the lift once it was all clear.

“And you’re sure you don’t want me to walk you to AAU?”

“Serena!” Bernie replied in a way that was an express ‘no’. “I’ll be fine. You focus on Hanssen and seeing if we can’t get the trauma unit funding reinstated. I promise you, I’ll be good and be in the office when you come back down. Foot elevated and paperwork-induced scowl in place. Scout’s honour.”

“See you in a bit.” Serena smiled, hands around her coffee.

“Tell Hanssen that I’ll have my return paperwork handed in to HR when I can.”

“I put the form at the top of the pile.” Serena replied and Bernie rolled her eyes. She really did hate paperwork duty. No doubt she would manage to weedled into some light diagnostic duties by the time Serena got back from her meeting with Hanssen. Bernie shook her head, still smiling, tucked a curl behind her ear and walked away. Serena pressed the lift button, cocking her head as she watched Bernie go. Smiling, she cried out after her; “Try not to blow my ward up.”

“Our ward!” Bernie fired back just as quick. Bernie turned, and blew a kiss at Serena. Very much against the rules, but Bernie Wolfe liked to live dangerously. Serena checked that everyone else was occupied with something else, then winked back, smiling as she saw Bernie let out a large laugh as the elevator doors closed.

_ Ridiculous woman. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support and reviews. This is the end of our journey, and I'm so happy people have liked it. 
> 
> Feel free to check out my other writings, and if I'm currently complimenting another short fic like this, where Serena is given the secondment opportunity rather than Bernie, well... I couldn't possibly say. ;)


End file.
